It's about these two cats. Almost always getting into trouble.
Chapter 1: Two Kucings
Mr. Paws- cute, and cuddly, and furry, right? Well, yes and no. He was very cuddly, but he was very mischievous. Every day, he would get himself into some sort of trouble. Whatever he did, it was so naughty of him that [also] everyday he would get kicked out of his home and he would scratch his head with his back paws and wonder why he ever deserved this treatment. Even so, after a while, he didn’t mind.
In fact, he got used to it. He would lie in the long blades of grass and turn over; left, right, left, right. He pleased himself; he thought he was showing those humans that no matter what they did, they weren’t going to get on his nerves. He even started to think that he could be out there all day and chase mice through the fields.
Mr. Paws waltzed through the grass making his way to the barn where there would be curdled cow milk- his favorite. But he felt something squishy under his paws. YUCK! Cow pies! Mr. Paws lightly licked it off his paws so the taste wouldn’t linger for long. Mr. Paws could still taste it however, so he made his way across the grass once again. Mr. Paws nudged his ears against the wooden doors. There seemed to be no need to clutch the metal ring (he normally had to grip the door knob when humans locked him up in the bathroom). Mr. Paws could smell cows, hay, horse, lambs, wood, and pigs all mixed together in an odd fragrance. It did not seem to bother him too much; he only didn’t like the smell of the fresh milk. Maybe it was because he was so used to the rotten stuff he smelled so much. But as he approached the tin bucket, he had a change of heart. He remembered how whenever he would drink it curdled, his stomach would turn and his eyes would roll to the back of his head (so it seemed). He approached the bucket more confidently and willingly, growing with pace. Mr. Paws took his time lapping up the milk.
After a while of craning his neck, he had aches in his throat. He could see the sun setting in oranges, pinks, and blues. It made the light brown tufts of hair in his curly ears shine and his bright yellow eyes glisten. His silky white and brown fur looked soft and his bell tied in a knot to a string on his tail sparkle.
Mr. Paws knew that right around this time they would let him in, unless he did something really bad. Mr. Paws didn’t think that chewing the little human’s trophies mattered that much, but he wasn’t sure because petite Miss. Carol looked pretty upset when she had seen him going at it.
Carol was the youngest one in the family, though she is 12. She is small with an oval-shaped face, a small nose and thin lips. Her teal eyes are rotated a little to the right and seem to be very small, also. Carol always curled her hair so that it would look wavy and had her blonde hair higlighted with light browns and creams once every 3 months. She liked wearing things that were casual and she only would wear her mother’s earrings that had golden chains and a purple diamond hanging from the end of it. She had always liked literature, and that was why she had so many trophies. But for the family cat to ruin them, of course she would be mad.
Mr. Obert stayed at home to tend to the farm. He wasn’t very strong but he could plow the whole field in 2 hours. His face was edgy and his chin was straight. He had a full head of black hair that flipped at the edge of his ears. His small rectangular beard was placed under his moist lips and his nostrils were a little above the middle of his nose.
Mrs. Obert was a hair stylist. You would think someone who was a hair stylist would have their hair higlighted and curled. Mrs. Obert did not. Her hair was blonde and pulled back in a pony tail with her side bang showing. Her face was heart- shaped, and her nose right in the middle of her face. Her eyes were big and green and her body was large. She was not fat, just her hands were large, and her waist extended sideways. She worked early until the afternoon most times.
Kent was the last member of the family. His hair was a dirty blonde color and his hair looked like someone had draped a sheet right over his oval head. He was more tan than them all. His eyes were teal also, his nose was large and his mouth was wide. He had never been sporty or anything, he had been the kind of kid who would ride bikes and read novels and shove their little sister out of the way. He was 15 without a permit. He wasn’t horrible in school, he normally got a C average. School was far away though. They lived far apart from their neighbors, but their house was small. Their school was all the way in Winston at Winston High School. They lived in Altamont, Missouri and it took them 30 minutes to get there every morning.
Sometimes it was cold in Altamont, sometimes it was warm. After all, it WAS in the middle of the U.S..
Kent had a girlfriend. Her name was Marie. Her face was round and shiny. Her voice sounded like a flowing river of roses, so sweet and moving, her eyes were bright green and soft. Her lips moved fluently; her nose was small and upright. She wore loose sleeved blouses and skinny jeans, and almost always she wore her black plaid flats. She wore heavy amounts of mascara and used lip gloss to make a bright sheen coat over her lips. Her hair was layered in half curls in her long hair. It was a soft brown color and her bangs were feathered lightly over her face. At the moment she was in Bologna, Italy taking a tour of the longest porticos in the world. She was fluent in Italian and whenever she spoke it, she sounded very sweet.
Carol had never really liked Marie herself, she was actually a little jealous of her. Her hair was fluffy and her voice was soft. She was amazingly skinny and Carol swore she was anorexic. She would sit in her bright room and open the lacy white curtains and put on her reading glasses whenever Marie would come around. She arranged the peach colored pillows in a neat pile and lay on her stomach on the matching comforter. She scaled her fingers across the metal railing and tried to blend in with the room as a ghost. She was definitely glad she was gone. Carol could only tell Rose with her short, lengthy hair , how much she despised Marie. And whenever blue eyed Rose would ask with grace, “Why?” Carol would just say the same thing over again, “She’s simply too into her self. She’s very impish.” Carol new neither was probably true, but she found herself believing it more and more. Carol was excited to turn 13 in April. She was shy but she had never acted like she was any younger than 13 for her whole life. Rose was her only friend, besides her cousins. She thought that Carol had this weird charm to her that made her seem more likeable and less childish. Carol would just laugh.
Mr. Paws woke to the cold foggy morning. The dirty red SUV had departed from the cement driveway as it was a Friday. Mr. Paws was forgiven and let inside. Once everyone had left for work and school, Mr. Obert (or John) let him sit on his lap in the skinny velvet recliner. The dusty TV was set on top of the glass cabinet and changed to the channel that the morning news usually came on. John was in his white t- shirt and polyester shorts. The hair on John’s arms tickled Mr. Paws’ nose. Mr. Paws did not understand why it mattered whether the rest of the family was here or not to see him sitting on the furniture; it’s not like Mr. Paws cared what they thought of him. This is why he liked John though, because he let the rules go a little bit.
The house was quite small. Kent and Carol’s rooms were neat yet small. The house was small too, though. It was mostly bright with the drapes over the huge windows except for Kent’s room. His room was painted a cerulean blue. The The archway to the kitchen made the place seem smaller, even though the 2 pillars were holding up the roof so you could see from the living room what was going on in the kitchen. Only the stone wall bathroom made the place look a little more modern. This was because the outside of the house looked more ancient. The white paneling on the house gave it a suburbish look to it, but the gaping wooden double doors, the stained glass windows, the gates for the cows, the peeling paint on the barn, and the big brick chimney made it look more old.
Mr. Paws could hear the cows outside. He sang with them as he looked out the window. “Want to go out?” John Obert asked him in a high voice. Mr. Paws scoffed at his look of adore and he decided he might want to actually get away from him. “I’m not some stupid, cute little house pet that you can cuddle,” Mr. Paws thought to himself, “I’m tough with fur over muscle. Or fat, but I must say my friend, you seem a lot fatter than I.” John lifted himself out of the chair as Mr. Paws dived for the carpet. He made his way across the linoleum and opened the door for Mr. Paws. Mr. Paws walked out and heard the door shut behind him. “I could’ve opened that myself, thank you very much,” he thought rudely. But then again, he only could open them from the inside.
Mr. Paws trotted along the pasture chasing butterflies and diving for flies. He would chase one and follow the hairpin turns they made, crushing the grass along his way. When they moved, he would dive for them and land in the mulch, spitting up grass and dirt. When they moved still upon the branches, he would shake his rear end and pounce on top of the mossy branches in the spring leaves. He gripped with his claws and swiped the air in one swift movement closing in on his prey. Sometimes he would sneeze when the leaves tickled his nose and he would inspect the insect too long so that it may fly away. The cows and horses in the field (cows: Claudia, Mary, Denice. Horses: Jeanine, Patty, Tinsel) watched him play. They could understand what he was doing, but could not communicate with him for they were born among cows- not cats. What Mr. Paws didn’t know was that the next door neighbor cat, Alice, sat on the fence watching him adoringly with her large blue eyes.
Alice was a Singapura Cat. Her torso and tail were a dark brown and her face of mahogany. Her small snout was white connected to the white rims around her eyes. Her chest and legs were a white-brown, her large eyes green, her nose a burnt pink, her ears large, and her fur was rough. Around her neck was a purple ribbon with a metal diamond with the words engraved on it:
Alice loved the way Mr. Paws arched his back and launched his way through the air. She imagined how lovely it would look in slow motion. She imagined how exciting it would look in fast motion. And whenever their eyes met, she felt the warm fires in Singapore warming her up after a long swim and her colorful old owners calling her, “Mengeringkan kucing” or “Drain cat.” Chiewhwa would also call her, “Lucu kucing,” and say, “Tapi aku akan selalu mencintaimu.” Translation: Playful kitten, but I will always love you.
She was then lost and shipped off to America along with many other lost cats. She missed them, but was sure they were doing fine.
Alice thought Mr. Paws was being irresistible, so she called him over in Malay, “Oh, Mister Cakar!” she mewed. She shrugged her shoulders and lifted her paw leaving a cute look about her. Mr. Paws paused in mid-jump and cried out a new word that he had heard on some show. It was yet, but, a word that he shouldn’t have said and Alice stood there with an alert expression on her face. Mr. Paws then landed on a branch with his legs spread out over it and feeling paralyzed by this unprepared landing, he fell back and his head hit the next branch beside him. Mr. Paws felt this and rolled out quickly, but for the first time, he landed on his head.
Alice quickly pounced over to him and bent her head down over his face so that they were right over each other. “Oh, hi Alice.” he groaned with his big voice. Alice had the voice of an excited woman (after all, she was 28 which is 4 in human years). “Hello,” she answered back.
“Ce qui est en haut?” Mr. Paws asked her. “Um, that’s French.” “Oh, sorry I do not know Malay. Anyways, What’s up?”
“Oh, I just came by to, uh, chase butterflies or something,” Alice replied nervously, “Well, um, yeah. So, you want to learn Malay?”
“Okay, sure,” Mr. Paws agreed awkwardly, “So how do I learn it?”
“You don’t just learn it!” Alice pawed him on the head, “It takes time!”
“Well, brunch #2 is coming up so we better make this quick.”
“Okay, let’s start with the basics. Namaku Alice,” said Alice to Mr. Paws, “It means ‘my name is Alice’.”
“Namaku Mr. Paws.”
“No, it’s Namaku Mister Cakar.”
“You are Mr. Paws?”
“No, that would be you.”
“But you just said-
“I MEANT THAT’S WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO SAY!” Alice cried in exasperation.
“Then who are you?”
“Never mind, moving on,” sighed Alice, “Halo. Is that simple enough for you? It means ‘Hello’.”
“Halo, namaku Mister Cacker.”
“No, no, no, it’s ‘Halo, namaku Mister Cakar.’”
“Halo, namaku Mister Cakar.” Mr. Paws replied nonchantly.
“Oh, good; I thought you said canker,” Alice stated, “On to the next one: Sampai Jumpa. That means goodbye.”
“Sam’s pie is jumping.”
“Um, not quite.”
“Kick my monkey?”
“Um…you know, we should probably move on to something else. Kucing means cat.”
“Yes, I knew that. Ka ching.”
“Anda begitu bodoh.” (You are so stupid.)
“No comprende.” Mr. Paws said.
“That would be Spanish.”
“What’s the difference?”
Alice hung her head. Mr. Paws broke the silence, “You know, it’s been really nice hanging out with you and all and there seems to be something I have to do. I mean if it’s ok with you then I could maybe just move a few inches to the right, down to my destination and-
“Cut the cheese- I mean, cut to the chase.
Alice sighed, “Okay, okay, I won’t bother you, you can go get your 4th meal of the day.”
“Actually It’s the 5th-
“YEAH, yeah, Whatever!”
Mr. Paws looked around as if he were looking for something as he bit his lip.
“What?” Alice asked, annoyed.
“I need to use the litter box.”
“Then, GO!” Alice yelled.
Mr. Paws trotted off and Alice yelled back at him, “Hey, don’t forget, we got some Singapura Sup at my human’s shelter tomorrow!” Mr. Paws looked back at her and managed to step in another cow pie.
As Alice made her way home, squeezing under the gate, she thought to herself, “What did I ever see in that kucing?”